CXD - 61

It wasn’t until mid-March that Guzhang finally began to take on the appearance of spring. After a warm rain, green sprouts began to emerge in clusters in the courtyard. White apricot and pink peach blossoms bloomed one after another, and when the sun came out, the garden was bathed in radiant spring light, full of vibrant colors.

Since the watchful eyes had disappeared from the courtyard and the weather had gradually warmed up, Jiang Zhiyi started taking walks after her afternoon naps. One day, she woke up from a nap to find a tall swing set standing in the courtyard. Knowing how particular the master of the house was, the swing frame was specially made of lacquered red wood. The ropes were smooth and didn’t chafe the hands, and the footboard was sturdy enough to stand on securely while swinging.

On this particular afternoon, Jiang Zhiyi sat on the swing, holding Yuan Tuan as they basked in the sun. Guyu gently pushed the swing behind her and mentioned, “Young Master Pei’s letter has been sent out for quite a few days now. By my calculations, if Lord Hou has replied, it should have arrived by now. Why is there still no news?”

Jiang Zhiyi, who had been playing with the little Pekingese in her arms, immediately stopped smiling and pouted, “I hope there’s a reply.”

“From what I’ve seen, General Shen seems much less fierce lately. If Lord Hou wrote back, surely we should have received it by now, right?”

Before her words even faded, Jingzhe entered the courtyard with a beaming smile, waving at Jiang Zhiyi from afar: “My Lady, a letter has arrived from Chang’an!”

Jiang Zhiyi quickly raised her hand to stop the swing, straightened herself, and looked out excitedly: “Two letters?”

“Yes, one from Lord Hou and one from Princess Baojia.”

Jiang Zhiyi hastily handed Yuan Tuan to Guyu, took the two letters, and flipped them over to examine the intact wax seals: “He’s still somewhat human, at least he didn’t tamper with them…”

Jingzhe was about to remind her when a male voice interrupted: “I rode all the way back here just to deliver your letters, and all I get is ‘he’s still somewhat human’?”

Jiang Zhiyi looked up and saw Yuan Ce brushing dust off his shoulders as he walked towards her with an unhappy expression.

… She wasn’t embarrassed at all. Jiang Zhiyi spoke her mind whether someone was present or not.

“So many people could have delivered the letters. Did you come back specifically to deliver them, or did you come back just to read them?” Jiang Zhiyi snorted, sitting on the swing and opening the letters without paying him any attention.

Since regaining her memories, she had become much sharper. Yuan Ce clicked his tongue lightly: “You can privately read the princess’s letter, but since Lord Hou’s letter concerns our marriage, I should also know the outcome.”

“What? Are you hoping my uncle will mediate? My uncle replied to me, not you. Isn’t it clear what the result is?”

“Since you seem so confident, my reading it won’t change Lord Hou’s mind.” Yuan Ce sat down on the swing with his legs spread wide.

Shameless. Jiang Zhiyi glared at him but, eager to read the letters, ignored him and allowed him to sit beside her. She took out three sheets of stationery from the envelope, shook them flat, and began reading.

The first page contained routine greetings. Her uncle expressed concern about her journey, asking if she was well, warm, and fed, and assured her that everything at home was fine, so she needn’t worry.

Jiang Zhiyi smiled faintly as she read each word. Turning to the second page—

“Upon reading the letter written on your behalf by Young Master Pei, your uncle feels deeply heartbroken. Disagreements are inevitable between a married couple living under the same roof, but as the saying goes, it takes a hundred years of cultivation to share a boat, and a thousand to share a bed. To destroy a hard-earned marriage over trivial unhappiness is truly regrettable. Moreover, based on Young Master Shen’s sincere and repentant tone in his letter, your uncle advises you to think carefully before making a hasty decision, lest you regret it later…”

Jiang Zhiyi’s smile froze, vanishing completely in an instant.

Glancing sideways, she saw Yuan Ce leaning close, thoroughly engrossed in reading the letter. His lips curved into the very smile she had lost.

Suppressing her frustration, Jiang Zhiyi turned to the third sheet—

“I don’t know your thoughts upon receiving this letter. If you’ve changed your mind, wait for the people I’m sending to Hexi. They’ll stay in Guzhang with you, giving you more confidence if disagreements arise in the future. If you remain determined to dissolve the engagement, your uncle has a suggestion. Fearing you might not have another marriage lined up immediately after breaking off the engagement, I noticed that Young Master Pei writes beautifully, far better than your fiancé. Handwriting reflects character, and since you entrusted such an important matter to him, it’s likely you consider him a close friend. Perhaps consider arranging a marriage with Young Master Pei after dissolving the engagement. If you agree, I’ll immediately return the dowry to the Shen family and negotiate your next marriage with the Pei family.”

Yuan Ce: “….”

Jiang Zhiyi was momentarily stunned by her uncle’s unexpected turn of phrase. Turning her head, she saw Yuan Ce’s face dark as mud and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Yuan Ce narrowed his eyes dangerously: “Is it really that funny, Jiang Zhiyi?”

“What? In the past, my letters to my father-in-law worked every time. How could I possibly fail to win over Lord Yong’en? Besides, doesn’t Lord Yong’en seem overly concerned with finding new sons-in-law? How could he already be arranging your next marriage before this one is even dissolved?”

—Half an hour later, Yuan Ce returned to the Xuan Ce Camp, standing on a high platform overlooking the training ground below. Mu Xin Hong called out repeatedly, “This shouldn’t be happening,” pacing back and forth in front of him.

Yuan Ce frowned, his expression calm but troubled.

It shouldn’t be happening. If only his older brother hadn’t insisted on pretending to be a spoiled brat, he wouldn’t have had to mimic his brother’s handwriting—pleasantly described as elegant, unpleasantly as clumsy—and lose to Pei Zi Song.

“A little over a month remains before Lord Hou’s men arrive in Hexi. We must seize the opportunity to make the young lady change her mind…” Mu Xin Hong analyzed the situation, which was already quite clear, as Li Da Feng casually ascended the platform. He quickly called out, “Master Li, you’ve come at the perfect time! Please give the young general some advice! You must have some insights on winning a girl’s affection?”

Li Da Feng shook his head: “I have no experience and can’t help the young general.”

Yuan Ce glanced at him askance: “No experience? Then why was half of the princess’s letter today about you?”

Of course, Yuan Ce hadn’t read the young lady’s letter, but after Jiang Zhiyi finished reading it, she complained bitterly that she only occupied half of her sister’s thoughts.

Li Da Feng shrugged: “Maybe because I’m different from you—I’m a good person. Good people are always the ones being chased.”

“…”

Mu Xin Hong couldn’t bear to look at Yuan Ce, who was left speechless. As expected of a military doctor, he knew exactly where to salt the wound.

Yuan Ce crossed his arms coldly and tilted his chin toward Li Da Feng: “Been feeling too idle lately? Or should I find something for you to do?”

“Why does the young general say this?” Li Da Feng blinked innocently.

Yuan Ce cracked his neck: “When evil people are in a bad mood, they like to torment their soldiers.”

With the “evil person” above, the sounds of training in the Xuan Ce Camp rang out loudly until the hour of Xu.

A group of young recruits emerged from the training ground under the cover of night, their bones nearly falling apart. Spotting Yuan Ce standing above, they immediately bowed their heads and quickened their pace, fearing they might be singled out for further training.

Yuan Ce sneered, intending to keep the fastest runners behind, when suddenly a soldier stationed at the residence rushed up the platform and reported hurriedly: “Young General, half an hour ago, the young mistress went to the night market with Miss Pei!”

“As long as she’s happy, let the guards accompany her.” Yuan Ce waved dismissively, extending a finger to continue selecting soldiers.

“San Qi is protecting the young mistress, but…” the soldier hesitated, “Miss Pei’s brother is also protecting her. Does this still count as letting her be happy?”

“…” Yuan Ce’s pointing finger curled, and he turned to walk down the platform.

Mu Xin Hong shouted from behind: “Young General, are you not training them anymore?”

“Let them all go.” Yuan Ce strode down the platform and mounted his horse.

If he didn’t disperse them, his household would fall apart.

At the same time, in the bustling night market of Guzhang, Jiang Zhiyi was walking arm in arm with Pei Xueqing, chatting and laughing as they strolled through the streets.

That evening, Pei Xueqing had visited the Shen residence to ask if she had received a letter from Lord Yong’en. It turned out that her uncle, suspicious that Yuan Ce might intercept the letter, had also sent one to Pei Zi Song. He thanked him for delivering the previous message and asked him to confirm whether she had received a reply.

Seeing that Pei Xueqing had gone out of her way to visit, Jiang Zhiyi invited her to stay for dinner. Afterward, planning to send her back to the inn, they decided to take a detour through the night market instead.

On the way, they encountered Pei Zi Song coming to pick up his sister, resulting in the three of them walking together.

Feeling the complex gaze behind her, Jiang Zhiyi turned to look at Pei Zi Song.

Pei Xueqing kept the secrets of the Shen family tightly sealed, not even telling her father or brother. Pei Zi Song, understanding and tactful, didn’t press her when she chose not to speak, though he likely had suspicions.

Pei Xueqing had repeatedly inquired about Yuan Ce in Chang’an and fell seriously ill after his engagement. Soon after Yuan Ce arrived in Hexi, she followed, returning in tears after a visit to him. Pei Zi Song undoubtedly believed his sister harbored deep feelings for Yuan Ce, unwilling to let go despite knowing he was engaged.

Seeing the two of them so intimate now must have left him with mixed emotions.

Jiang Zhiyi said to Pei Zi Song: “Master Pei, there’s no need to worry. Xueqing and I had some misunderstandings in Chang’an, but we’ve resolved them.”

Pei Xueqing nodded at her brother: “Yes, Brother, Little Sister Zhiyi treats me well. Don’t overthink it.”

Pei Zi Song smiled warmly at the two, hearing them refer to each other as sisters, his expression growing more complex.

Hand in hand, Jiang Zhiyi and Pei Xueqing crossed the long street when suddenly the sound of clappers and moon lutes accompanied by familiar accents filled the air. Looking ahead, they saw a crowd gathered around a traveling troupe performing Qin opera from Chang’an.

“To hear clapper opera here!” Both Jiang Zhiyi and Pei Xueqing were curious and moved forward to investigate.

Seeing their interest, San Qi quickly cleared a path for them to reach the front of the crowd.

In the center, a green-robed martial artist with a long beard and red face wielded a fake broadsword, spinning in rhythm with the music. With a dramatic stance, he struck a powerful pose.

“Bravo—!”

Most of the locals couldn’t understand the lyrics of the Qin opera, but impressed by the spectacle, they applauded enthusiastically.

As the performers circulated with their collection plates, Jiang Zhiyi, moved by the troupe’s struggles performing far from home, signaled San Qi to fetch some money.

San Qi handed over a money pouch to Jiang Zhiyi, reluctant to disturb her enjoyment of the performance. Instead, he asked Pei Zi Song: “Master Pei, what are they singing about? I can’t understand a word.”

Pei Zi Song listened for a moment and explained: “It’s a story of a father avenging his son. The protagonist’s son was killed by a classmate, and the father avenges him by destroying the classmate’s entire family. Only after completing his revenge does he realize he targeted the wrong person. The real culprit, highly skilled, used his blade to kill while remaining unscathed himself. Now, he sets out to find the true enemy…”

San Qi exclaimed: “Such a heartless villain! If this revenge isn’t exacted, he’s no father!”

Jiang Zhiyi, merely listening absentmindedly, suddenly froze upon hearing their discussion. Turning around, she asked: “What did you say?”

San Qi briefly summarized Pei Zi Song’s explanation for her.

The deafening music faded into a distant hum as Jiang Zhiyi’s mind raced—why did this story feel so familiar?

A son killed by a classmate, a father avenging the wrong person, realizing too late that someone else orchestrated the murder…

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened.

Wasn’t this the story of Yuan Ce using the Zhuo family to bring down the Zhong family? Was it mere coincidence that people from Chang’an were performing this play in Guzhang, or was there something more?

Looking again at the troupe, Jiang Zhiyi couldn’t shake the feeling that the painted faces had grown sinister and terrifying. Whether it was her imagination or not—

“San Qi,” Jiang Zhiyi whispered urgently, “quickly send a message to your young general…”

Before she could finish, Pei Xueqing screamed, and Pei Zi Song shouted, “Be careful!” pulling Jiang Zhiyi aside.

Jiang Zhiyi stumbled, looking down to see a sharp knife narrowly miss her waist, just an inch away from piercing her.

In an instant, the performers shed their costumes to reveal black uniforms, drawing real swords and charging forward.

San Qi drew his sword and stepped forward. The crowd scattered in panic, screaming and running.

Jiang Zhiyi’s soul was still catching up when Pei Zi Song pulled her back, shielding both her and Pei Xueqing amidst the chaos.

The streets were filled with panicked crowds and overturned stalls. Struggling to protect the two women, Pei Zi Song led them through the confusion.

Suddenly, a surge of people collided with Jiang Zhiyi, separating her from Pei Zi Song. Just like that, she lost sight of the Pei siblings.

Turning her head, she couldn’t see them anywhere, but a masked assassin with a green face leaped through the crowd, heading straight for her.

Despairingly, Jiang Zhiyi ran, colliding with a figure rushing against the flow. Looking up, she saw a face she recognized instantly, relief flooding her as she cried out: “Brother Ce, it’s—it’s people sent by Marquis Xuande seeking revenge!”

Yuan Ce’s eyes flickered slightly. With one hand, he pulled her behind him, and with the other, he threw a dagger.

The dagger flew like an arrow, piercing with a sharp sound. From behind Yuan Ce, Jiang Zhiyi watched as the leading assassin collapsed, blood seeping from his chest.

Yuan Ce turned to her, who was visibly shaken, and blinked: “What did you just call me?”

“What?” Jiang Zhiyi looked up, her mind a blur.

What had she called him in her panic? Could it be…

No, was this the time to dwell on that?

As another wave of assassins approached, Yuan Ce remained unmoving, waiting for her response. Jiang Zhiyi, her blood racing madly, her scalp tingling, blurted out desperately: “Brother Ce! Brother Ce!”

Yuan Ce kicked up a fallen sword with his boot, gripping it in his palm. With his other hand, he took hers and smirked: “Come, Brother Ce will take you to kill some people.”